


Die Hard, Sherlock Style

by Canisa



Series: Die Hard Infusion [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Lestrade, BAMF Mycroft, BAMF Sherlock, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mycroft IS the British Government, die hard - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8760553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canisa/pseuds/Canisa
Summary: A continuation from Die Hard, Lestrade Style.  After the attack on Nakatomi building, John Watson is on the flight from LA back to London.  The former captain cannot wait to return to his London flat and see what Sherlock Holmes has done to their flat while he was gone rescuing Mycroft Holmes in LA.   What no one knew was that there is still danger lurking, ready to strike.    This part focus on Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, with supporting roles from Greg Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes.  Cheers.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of Part I: Die Hard, Lestrade Style. You will need to read that first before diving into this...

Chapter 1:Prologue

Embarrassingly, it took 8 seconds for Sherlock Holmes to make the connection.   

“Sherlock?” 

But no one was there to know, was there?   “Mrs. Hudson.”  Sherlock gave his landlord a patently disinterested stare before he crossed the living room in 4 long strides and picked up his phone from the writing desk.    “The conclusion of soil bacteria simply cannot wait.  I am already behind in updating my blog.”   His fingers flew on the smartphone.   But instead of logging into his blog, he typed in a few key words in the search engine.

Terrorists.

L.A.

Bombs.

“Sherlock. “ His name was spoken with absolute frigidness.  “Don’t bother updating the blog.  No one is reading it.”

With his face remained neutral, the detective scanned at the words popping out of the search engine.

Nakatomi.  Hostages.  Hans Gruber. 

43 years old.  German Mercenary.  

His mind recalled.

 “John just went through that whole ordeal with that terrible business with the terrorist in L.A.  If it were not for Greg to call in, we don’t even know where John is!”  Shaking her head, Mrs. Hudson carried off his tea set with unnecessary force.   “It is a miracle that they all made out alright.  Poor Greg and that brother of yours though… they had to stop by New York for a quick check up.    Your brother somehow tore his stiches on his way back on the plane.   Heaven knows what he was doing…   but they should be in much later this evening.   And why didn’t they take John with them on his private plane?  I just don’t understand.”

An image of a crumpled building surrounded by severely damaged police car popped up on his phone.  It had looked like a war zone.

  “Sherlock.  Are you listening to me?”

A blurry image of a short man with terrible jumper standing by a stretcher.    The terrible jumper bore the same hideous shade of purple and blue as John had wore the day Sherlock last saw him.  But what was different was that there were now splashes of crimson red on the jumper.

 “You will pick John up at the airport.  Otherwise, you get no more tea and biscuit from me!”   Sensing no reply, Mrs. Hudson admonished one final time before she closed the door behind her with force.

Heavy silence filled the room. 

With Mrs. Hudson out of sight, the detective pressed his lips into a thin line.   His knuckle turned white from gripping on the phone too hard.

* * *

“Isn’t technology wonderful?  It used to be those fat expensive air phones that you can hardly hear anything!”

John Watson looked up from his smartphone and smiled amicably to the old lady sitting next to him on the airplane.  “It is… until my flat mate abuses it.”   The former captain of Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers shook his head.  “Getting 107 messages about my bloody tea set not being ceramic was a form of torture.”

The nosy old lady shifted into his space.  “That’s quite a lot of messages from your famous flat mate.”  Her eyes seemed to sparkle with her knowing smile.

Ah.  He should have realized people would recognize him.   Sherlock Holmes has always stood out but lately, people started to recognize him as well.

“Well, what do you have there?”  John slipped the phone back into his pocket and shifted smoothly to a different topic as he eyed at a black thing on her tray table.

“This?”  The old lady picked up her Taser stun gun from her tray table.  She skillfully replaced the battery before clipping the cover back in place.  “Oh, my daughter gave me this right before I come on to this trip.  You know after that terrible news on the Nakatomi building, she told me to zap any bastards who want to screw with me.”   She winked and John could do nothing but smiled politely.  “And don’t tell anyone this, but I tried it on that yappy dog next door. “  She came closer and whispered like it was a conspiracy.  “The poor thing, I am not sure if it is ever going to walk again…”

John widened his eyes.   Perhaps Sherlock was not the only one with curiosity that could kill….

* * *

In a dimly lit motel room, the news channel shuffled through images from the aftermath of the attack on Nakatomi Building.  But the occupant of the room paid no attention to the horrendous images.   Instead, the man with hard but scarred body moved fluidly with Karate exercises.   The muscle on his arm shifted under the tight skin as he executed each move with control and precision.

A phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

The man resolved his last move of his Karate exercise.

Before the phone rang the third time, smoothly, the man reached over the side table and picked up the hotel phone.  “Stuart.”  He spoke evenly.

“Hans Gruber failed.”  The deep voice came through coldly with no trace of emotion.

The man did not comment.   He knew better to just listen for further instruction.

“Package is en route to you as expected.  Activate your team and intercept.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.  He would earn his keep.   “Yes Sir.” 

The phone went dead.


End file.
